


There's Not Much To Do At Sleepovers Except Gossip And Tell Stories

by tvgoldfish



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Sakamoto is there but only in spirit, Shouka Sonjuku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26523430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvgoldfish/pseuds/tvgoldfish
Summary: “You know, this is really boring.” Gintoki whispers, and his voice is still squeaky with nerves. “Oi Zura, you should tell us a story.”“Katsura.” He corrects. “What story?”“None,” Takasugi groans, his shuddering mostly abated. The wind had been calm for a few minutes. “I want to go to sleep, not listen to this idiot drone for an hour.”Katsura ignores him. “Well, I suppose I could tell a story. Let’s see-”“It should be about me,” Gintoki says. “And about how I fight an idiot with a height complex-”“It should be about someone with a silver perm getting beaten into the dust.” Takasugi snaps.Katsura considers, and then says, “Once upon a time-”-How many shout-outs can I fit in one story? Shouka Sonjuku era fic.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	There's Not Much To Do At Sleepovers Except Gossip And Tell Stories

The three of them lay down on the tatami mats, their futons spread in a line. Katsura takes center, reluctantly, after a scuffle from Takasugi and Gintoki has the latter drag his futon over to Katsura’s left side, saying he doesn’t want whatever disease makes Takasugi so pissy to rub off on him.

“I can’t sleep.” Gintoki says, for the third time in fifteen minutes.

“Maybe you would be able to if you’d lay still for five minutes,” Katsura replies, at the same time as Takasugi grumbles, “If I hold a pillow over your face, you’ll go to sleep forever, bastard. Maybe we should try it.”

Gintoki ignores them both. His voice climbs an octave as he speaks. “It’s kind of dark in here. I mean, not that I’m scared or anything. And it’s kind of drafty. Do you guys feel like there’s someone watching us?”

The wind picks up outside, rattling the shoji doors. Suddenly, there are three people on Katsura’s futon.

“D-d-id you he-hear that?” Gintoki’s hands are fisted in Katsura’s yukata.

“It was j-just the wind, you b-baby.” Takasugi bites. He’s trembling against Katsura’s side.

“Oi, you’re calling me a baby when you’re hiding in Zura’s futon?!” Gintoki hisses back.

“You’re here too!”

“I just came over to comfort Zura! Oi, what if he was scared, ah?! Think of his feelings, Bakasugi!” Gintoki whispers.

Takasugi edges farther onto Katsura’s futon. “That’s what I was doing, moron. If you’re really not scared, you can go back to your futon. I’ll stay with Zura.”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura,” Katsura puts in. “And I’m fine, so you can both go back to your own futons.”

Another gust of wind rattles the door, and both Takasugi and Gintoki cling tighter. Katsura idly wonders if he should reposition the comforter so it covers all of them, when he realizes he doesn’t really want either of them in his bed, and he shouldn’t be worrying about whether or not they’re comfortable.

“It’s ok-kay, Zura. You d-d-don’t ha-have to p-pretend around us. We won’t t-t-tell anyone you we-were sc-scared of the w-wind.” Gintoki’s voice is muffled by Katsura’s sleeve, which he’s currently hiding his face in.

“It’s Katsura, and I’m really not.” He replies mildly.

“Shut up, Zura.” Takasugi chose the comforter to hide in, instead of Katsura’s clothing, so he supposes he should be grateful. “It’s n-no-nothing t-to be ashamed of.”

"I’m not ashamed. I’m not scared.” I’m Katsura, he almost adds, which is beginning to become a bad habit.

A branch scrapes against the roof. Takasugi actually squeaks, which may have been cute, except now he’s grabbing Katsura’s arm hard enough to bruise.  
Shoyou-sensei said not to fight. Shoyou-sensei said not to fight- He restrains himself from physically kicking them off his futon, and sighs. “Could you at least bring your own comforters? Mine isn’t big enough for all of us.”

Gintoki laughs, quickly and high-pitched. Katsura looks over, and sees that he’s eyeing his futon, not five feet away, with something like terror.

Katsura sighs. “Takasugi, can you grab Gintoki’s comforter too? It looks like he’s too scared to get up-”

“I can get my own, d-dammit!” Gintoki is out from Katsura’s futon in an instant and darts to his futon on all fours. He drags his comforter back, cringing at the rasping noise the blanket makes against the tatami mats. Takasugi is out and in just as fast.

They settle into something like peace, even if Takasugi and Gintoki quake against his side whenever the wind picks up.

“You know, this is really boring.” Gintoki whispers, and his voice is still squeaky with nerves. “Oi Zura, you should tell us a story.”

“Katsura.” He corrects. “What story?”

“None,” Takasugi groans, his shuddering mostly abated. The wind had been calm for a few minutes. “I want to go to sleep, not listen to this idiot drone for an hour.”

Katsura ignores him. “Well, I suppose I could tell a story. Let’s see-”

“It should be about me,” Gintoki says. “And about how I fight an idiot with a height complex-”

“It should be about someone with a silver perm getting beaten into the dust.” Takasugi snaps.

Katsura considers, and then says, “Once upon a time-”

“That’s a lame way to start,” Gintoki mutters.

“If you don’t like it, you can go back to your own futon.” Katsura replies. Gintoki says nothing. “Once upon a time, there was a man who lived alone in a shack by a river. One day, when he went down  
to the river to wash his laundry, a giant peach floated down the river-”

“This is just Momotaro isn’t it? Where’s the man’s wife at? Oi, why is he alone?”

“-much to his surprise. He fished the peach out of the river, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. You see, once before in his life, he had gotten a horse as a present, a beautiful stallion, with a glossy-”

“Stick to Momotaro, dammit!” Gintoki snaps. “No one wants to hear about horses.”

“I do,” Katsura says, affronted. “I like horses. But anyway, the man cut open the peach, and inside was a boy. The boy blinked up at the man. ‘Who are you,’ the boy asked. The man replied, ‘My name is Yoshida Shoin-”

“Oiiiiii! That’s just Sensei!” Gintoki yells.

“It’s not sensei, it’s Yoshida Shoin.” Katsura protests.

“Really, Zura?” Takasugi mumbles. His face is pressed against Katsura’s shoulder, so he can feel as well as hear his disbelief.

“Well, thinking up names is hard.” Katsura admits.

“So you’re just being lazy?!” Gintoki accuses.

“No I’m not! Do you actually want to hear the story?! Okay. Where was I? Oh, yeah. The man smiled at the boy, and then asked him, ‘And who might you be?’ The boy replied, ‘Dunno.’ Most would be  
put off by the reply, but Yoshida Shoin just laughed. ‘I suppose it’s up to me to give you a name then. I will call you Gintaro.’”

“Why’s it about him?!” Takasugi grumbles.

“That’s Kintaro! Kintaro, damn it!” Gintoki protests, “Why are you shoving me into Momotaro?!”

“Shut up! I couldn’t remember how Kintaro went! Stop interrupting me!” Katsura clears his throat, and continues. “The man adopted the boy, and they lived together for years. Yoshida Shoin never kicked Gintaro out, even though he interrupted every story he told-”

“Shut up.”

“-and the two had a relatively peaceful life. As their lives carried on, a dog and a pheasant took up residence with them.”

“They’re early. And you forgot the monkey.” Takasugi mumbled.

“Oh, I did? No, wait- It’s my story. Anyway, the four of them, Gintaro, Yoshida Shoin, the pheasant, Takasugi Shinsaku-”

“Why are you giving them all hack names, hah?!” Gintoki yells.

“Why am I a pheasant?!” Takasugi demands. “I don’t want to be a damn bird!”

“It’s not you. I changed the name.” Katsura answers. “And you remind me of them.”

“You just contradicted yourself! You contradicted yourself, dammit!” Gintoki says.

Katsura ignores him, “And the dog, Katsura Kogoro-”

“Pick different names!” Gintoki demands. “I’m sick of this!”

“And the dog, Kido Takayoshi,” Katsura amends.

“Too different!” Gintoki yells. “Just use our names, moron!”

“There can’t be a Kotaro and a Gintaro!” Katsura yells back.

“Maybe I wanted to be the dog,” Takasugi interjects.

“You can’t be the dog because I’m the dog!” Katsura protests.

“You just admitted it’s you! Just use our names, oi!” Gintoki pushes Katsura. Katsura being pushed pushes Takasugi, who pushes back, and Katsura’s brain feels like it’s rattling around in his skull.

“Enough! The dog is Katsura Kogoro! And the four of them lived peacefully! Until one day, tragedy struck. Gintaro, Takasugi, and Katsura had all left the shack that morning to hunt for dinner. The man  
had told the three of them to be back in an hour, but they had been delayed, as they couldn’t find anything to eat. Gintaro had suggested that they simply take Takasugi back and eat him, and Takasugi had taken offense, and Katsura had wandered into the woods because he found a clutch of rabbits who were small and soft and white, tiny and round like snowballs-”

“We get it. They were stuck in the woods.” Takasugi settles back against Katsura’s shoulder.

“-ah. Yes. By the time they had gotten back to their home, night had already fallen. They brought the food inside. They found their home ransacked, their few belongings broken and scattered across  
the floor. They flew into a panic and searched, and searched, but no matter how far they canvassed the woods, they could not find Yoshida Shoin anywhere. Gintaro had a sudden dawning realization. Gintaro was not a normal child-”

“He was dropped on his head as a baby.” Takasugi interjects.

Katsura hurriedly continues before the pushing can resume, “-having been born from a peach. Looking at the disaster, he told the dog and the pheasant, ‘He was taken by oni. If we ever want to see  
sensei-’”

“You said it!” Gintoki crows, “You said it was Sensei!”

“No, Gintaro said it was Sensei! Maybe Yoshida Shoin is his sensei! Shut up! ‘If we ever want to see sensei again,’ he told them, ‘we’re going to have to fight the oni to bring him back.’ The dog and the pheasant were scared-”

“The pheasant wasn’t,” Takasugi grumbles.

“But they agreed, as they wanted to save Sensei no matter the cost. Their party wasted no time setting off, taking only the dinner they caught and whatever other provisions they could salvage from the wreck, including a bag of dango. They walked for three days and two nights, and were beset by weariness. They began to feel as if something was following them.”

The wind picked up again, and, however he may feel about the fact that Takasugi and Gintoki were clinging to his arms so hard they were losing circulation, Katsura had to appreciate the timing.

“As they walked, branches rustled behind them. They heard footsteps along the path, but when they turned around, the trail was empty. Mocking laughter followed them as they travelled. They began to grow paranoid, and finally, the dog volunteered to look around the forest while the other two made camp. They warily agreed.

“However, as soon as the dog left, the laughter began to grow louder and louder. Gintaro and Takasugi, wordlessly, prepared themselves to fight.

“A walnut flew out of the trees, pelting Gintaro in the back of the head. He turned to face the assailant, just as another hit Takasugi. The laughter continued all around them, and walnuts rained down from all angles. Takasugi suddenly had an idea.

“‘We have to go,’ whispered Takasugi to Gintaro. ‘Leave our stuff.’”

“That’s stupid, why the hell would they leave their stuff? All their food is in there,” Gintoki whispers, raising himself on an elbow. He sneers at Takasugi, “What the hell are they gonna eat, dumbass? Are you suggesting roasted pheasant?”

“I didn’t suggest anything,” Takasugi whispers back, glaring at Gintoki. “Can’t you tell the difference between fantasy and-”

“No one can actually hear either of you,” Katsura points out, “There’s no reason to whisper.”

“Shut up!” They both hiss at him.

Gintoki’s head snaps back around to glare at Takasugi. He demands, “Why the hell are they leaving the food? There’s dango in there!”

“Do you have a different idea? Or do you just want to keep getting pelted by walnuts? I don’t think you can handle any more brain damage,” Takasugi snaps back.

“Oi-”

“Would you please just let me tell the story?” Katsura interrupts. “Anyway- Takasugi flew away through the trees, and Gintaro, reluctantly, dropped the bag of food and followed, not seeing a better  
alternative. The laughter grew louder and louder as he left, following him into the forest like a physical presence.

“It sounded as though Takasugi was flying away very fast-”

“So Takasugi the pheasant’s a scaredy cat, just like the real one, huh?”

“Bastard, are you-”

Katsura continues, talking over Takasugi, “But as soon as Gintaro reached the edge of the clearing, Takasugi circled back to wait with him.

“Gintaro looked to Takasugi for an explanation, but Takasugi just gestured for him to wait and watch the clearing. Just when the laughter was dying off to chuckles, and Gintaro was about to wring Takasugi’s neck-”

“Like he could.”

“-and run back to the clearing to get their food, he heard a crackling in the branches overhead. He stilled, and turned his attention to the clearing. A brown blur descended rapidly from one of the trees, and scurried into the clearing.

“‘Now,’ said Takasugi, and Gintaro suddenly understood. In sync, he and Takasugi charged, Takasugi attacking from the air, and Gintaro straight on. Their assailant didn’t even have time to fight back before he was backed against a tree, Gintaro’s sword at his throat. Takasugi retrieved their rations.”

Takasugi says, “It was a trap.”

“Shut up! Like you have anything to be proud of! You didn’t even think of it!” Gintoki snaps, levering himself up and over Katsura once more. “That was Zura. Zura! Don’t you know the difference between fantasy and-”

“I was in the middle of an important character introduction!” Katsura elbows Gintoki in the stomach and he collapses back into place. He leans over Gintoki, waving an arm in the air. “You broke the dramatic tension! Interrupting the story ruins-”

“Why don’t you just shut up and get on with it?” Takasugi says impatiently.

Katsura frowns and clears his throat, shooting a petulant glare towards Takasugi. “Fine.” He folds his hands on his stomach. “Gintaro pressed the tip of his sword to their assailant’s throat. A monkey, 

Gintaro noticed with surprise.”

“Oh, you remembered,” notes Takasugi.

Gintoki cradles his elbowed ribcage, mumbling petulantly, “Who’s this one gonna be? Someone from our class? Daisuke? Haru? Sora?”

“‘Who are you,’ Gintaro asked, glaring at the monkey. The monkey laughed nervously and lifted his head to look at Gintaro.

“‘I’m Sakamoto Ryoma,’ He grinned, ‘Nice to meetcha.’”

“Oi! Who the hell is that?!” Gintoki yells, rocketing to a sitting position once more.

“Why are you getting angry?” Katsura demands, “You said to stop naming the characters after people we knew!”

“Be consistent, dumbass!” Gintoki snaps.

Katsura frowns and looks at Gintoki. “You be consistent! Do you want me to name them after real people or not?!”

“I want you to pick one and stop being dumb!”

“And I want you to shut up so he can finish.” Takasugi snaps at Gintoki, and scowls as he seems to realize what he said. “You two aren’t going to be quiet and let me sleep until he does.”

“Thank you, Takasugi.” Katsura pointedly ignores the last part, clears his throat, and continues, “The monkey’s name is Sakamoto. Anyway- Gintaro dropped the tip of his sword, frowning at the monkey. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Gintaro asked.

“‘Ahaha,’ The monkey laughed, scratching the back of his head and keeping his eyes pinned to Gintaro’s sword, ‘Nothing much, you know. Just swinging around!’

“Takasugi dropped the rations bag out of Sakamoto’s reach and circled back around, glaring at him. ‘So trying to steal our food is nothing much? Attacking us with projectiles is just swinging around?’”

Gintoki scowls, “Projectiles? ‘Attacking us with projectiles?’”

“I didn’t want to say nuts,” Katsura protests, “It sounds weird.”

“You could have said walnuts,” Takasugi points out.

Katsura says, testing it out, “‘Attacking us with walnuts is just swinging around?’”

“Why the hell do you take his suggestions but not mine?” Gintoki demands. “Why is he getting preferential treatment?!”

Crossing his arms, Katsura turns his nose up and looks away, “You’re not giving me suggestions, you’re just criticizing.” He whips his head back around to glare at Gintoki, “And what even is your problem with projectiles?!”

“Projectiles is too big of a word for a guy his size!” Gintoki yells, stabbing his finger in Takasugi’s direction.

“Why are you using that to pick on my height?!” Takasugi snaps back, grabbing Gintoki’s finger and bending it back.

“Owowowowow!” Gintoki punches Takasugi in the shoulder with his other hand. “What the hell, bastard?! You know, Shouyou-sensei said that violence is the tool of an idiot that can’t think of anything smart to say!”

“Sometimes violence is the only language an idiot will understand!” Takasugi grunts back, leaning over Katsura to press Gintoki’s finger farther back. Takasugi’s bony elbow grinds into Katsura’s sternum.

“Hey, that hurts!” Katsura yells. Takasugi ignores him. Katsura grits his teeth and delivers a quick jab to Takasugi’s jaw. “Shouyou-sensei also said not to fight!”

Takasugi jolts back, releasing Gintoki’s finger like it’s diseased to cradle his jaw with both hands. “Why did you hit me?! I wasn’t the one bringing Sensei into it!”

“You were the one with your elbow in my ribs!”

“So it’s okay when to fight when you’re getting hurt?” Takasugi bites.

“Yes! Because it’s my futon and you guys keep interrupting me!” Katsura yells.

“Maybe we wouldn’t have to keep interrupting you if your story wasn’t so stupid!” Gintoki snaps, holding his finger close to his chest.

Katsura twists, bracing one foot against Gintoki’s hip and his palm on Takasugi’s shoulder. He shoves as hard as he can, pushing both of them out from under the covers and onto the tatami mats. He rolls himself in his blankets and glares at Gintoki from the confines of his wrap. “Well maybe I don’t have to let you two stay in my futon!”

Gintoki glares at him for a moment before the wind picks up, shaking the door in its frame with a fearsome clatter. Gintoki’s eyes snap wide open.

“Oi, Zura! Wait! Let us in!” Gintoki scrambles over and grabs his shoulders, shaking the blanket cocoon frantically. “Hey, wait, there’s something out here!”

“Remember my name before you beg me for your life!” Katsura yells back, wrapping himself so tightly in the blankets that he’s having trouble breathing.

Katsura feels another set of hands on his cocoon, pulling at the edge of one of the comforters. Takasugi braces his foot on Katsura’s back and pulls, “You took our blankets too, bastard!”

Another gust of wind blows through the trees outside, howling and sending the branches skittering over the roof. Both of them freeze, their grips going slack on the blankets.

“Z-zura!” Gintoki tugs frantically at the blankets, “Oi, Zura! L-l-let me in! Oi, d’you want me to get eaten?! Zura!”

“H-h-hey,” Takasugi wraps himself tightly in the three feet of blanket that he managed to pull from Katsura’s cocoon, “S-stop complaining! You smell so gross that it’ll p-pass you up entirely. I’m the one in the most danger right now!”

“You’re so damn small it will still be hungry after it eats you!” Gintoki grabs the edge of one of Katsura’s blankets and yanks, trying to unwind it. “Oi! Zura! You’ve only got two friends! Letting us get eaten is social suicide!”

“Leave me alone!” Katsura yells. He’s overheating, wrapped in too many blankets- and the way the two of them are pulling is making it worse, crushing one of his arms uncomfortably to his chest and twisting one of his knees the wrong way. “Face your deaths like samurai, you cowards!”

“You’re the one who’s hiding in a pile of blankets!” Takasugi frees one of the comforters with a mighty yank.

“I’m hiding from you! Not an imaginary monster!” Katsura protests. He makes a desperate bid to grab back the blanket, only for his distraction to allow Gintoki to free the other. Katsura now has only one comforter, half on, half off, leaving one of his legs exposed and his face half covered.

Takasugi and Gintoki drop down, wedging themselves into Katsura’s space. Gintoki’s blanket flutters down over them. “Oi, oi, Zura, face your fears! We’re harmless!”

“You’re not harmless! You’re kicking my shin, and your perm is suffocating me!” Katsura protests, pushing Gintoki away and spitting silver hair out of his mouth. “There’s nothing out there! Why are you two so scared?!” Katsura stops, aiming a disappointed stare at the side of Gintoki’s head, “Did you guys break into Sensei’s video collection again?”

“It’s not my fault!” Gintoki elbows Katsura. “Takasugi said I was too big of a baby to watch Poltergeist!”

“And you are,” Takasugi mumbles against Katsura’s back. Katsura can feel the blanket bunched up between them.

“Shut up! So are you!” Gintoki snaps.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Takasugi mutters.

“Like hell you don’t!” yells Gintoki. “You’re hiding behind Zura!”

“You’re hiding in front of him!”

The three of them lapse into silence. Katsura’s hair sticks to his face and gets in his eyes, and he makes it a point to jab Gintoki with his elbow as he raises his arm to swipe his hair away from his face. The wind is dying down, now, and he hopes that the two of them fall asleep quickly- he has no leverage with his knees tangled in the comforter and his arms compressed as they are- he’ll have to wait before he can kick them out again.

“Hey,” Takasugi grumbles. “Zura. Are you asleep?”

“Katsura,” He corrects automatically, then sighs, having already given himself away. “What is it?”

“What happened with the monkey?” He asks reluctantly.

“Hm. What?”

“Are you serious?” Takasugi’s voice tapers off, getting lower and closer to a growl, “In the s- forget it. Nevermind.”

“Takasugi wants you to finish the story,” Gintoki fills in, in the same tone he uses when he tells Shouyou-sensei that Takasugi wants dumplings from the roadside stand.

“I didn’t say that!” Takasugi snaps.

“Are you two going to start interrupting me again?” Katsura glares at the back of Gintoki’s head, then tries to face Takasugi. He can’t quite turn his head far enough to level Takasugi with a glare.

They stay petulantly silent.

Katsura doesn’t want to finish the story, just to spite them, but- well, he hates to leave a story half told. He sighs and says, “Where did I leave off? Um...”

“‘So attacking us with walnuts is just swinging around?’” Takasugi supplies.

“Oh. Right. Uh...” Katsura takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “Sakamoto laughed nervously, faced with Takasugi’s talons and Gintaro’s sword. Gintaro broke the silence, raising his blade once more. ‘Why were you attacking us?’

“‘Haha,’ the monkey replied, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, ‘It was nothing personal! The oni destroyed my village and I had to run! But I had nothing to eat, see? So I was just hoping to take a little snack!’

“Takasugi and Gintaro’s eyes met, thinking the same thing. ‘What can you tell us about the oni?’ Gintaro demanded.

“‘Well, they’re ugly bastards!’ Sakamoto laughed, ‘And they could crush eight of us with one blow!’

“‘Do you know where to find them?’ Takasugi asked.

“‘I know that they live on an island in the sea,’ the monkey replied, thoughtfully. ‘But I don’t really know where! It’s better like that- I’m a good man with a boat, but I wouldn’t want to go over there!’

“‘Well, we do,’ said Gintaro, sheathing his sword. ‘If you can find the island, will you take us there?’

“Takasugi noticed the monkey’s hesitance, and the way that his eyes strayed to their ration bags, ‘You said you were looking for food- we’ll give you a bag of dango if you agree.’”

“Oi, offer him something else, bastard! Those were my damn dango!” Gintoki snaps at Takasugi.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not the one-”

“‘I’ll take it,’ Sakamoto said,” Katsura continued loudly, before the two of them could get going again, “‘Ahaha, you’re morons for offering though! The only reason I’d want to find that island would be so that I could avoid it better! What do you want to go there for?’

“‘We’re going to fight the oni,’ Gintaro said. Takasugi rooted around in their ration bag, retrieving the bag of dango and bringing it to Sakamoto.”

Gintoki whines, “Those were my plot relevant dango.”

“It’s my plot, so they’re my plot relevant dango.” Katsura responds.

“It’s not your plot, it’s Momotaro,” Takasugi mutters.

Gintoki flips to his back and waves his arm around to punctuate his point. “It’s Momogintaro, so they’re momo-Gin’s dango.”

“Fine, then. It’s momonkeytaro, now, and they’re the monkey’s dango,” Katsura says.

“The monkey’s not even based on a real person! Why should he get the dango!?”

“They’re fake dango! He’s a fake monkey!”

“The whole story’s fake. What the hell are you idiots even going on about?” Takasugi snaps.

“Fake Gintoki shouldn’t have to suffer like real Gintoki!” Gintoki bangs his fist on the futon. “I’m doing this for Gintaro!”

“Oh. You’re still pissed that Sensei ate the rest of the dango before you got any?” Takasugi says.

“We told you to stop sleeping in the middle of the day,” Katsura says. “Really, it’s your own fault.”  
“Would it kill you to have some sympathy, you bastards?!” Gintoki grabs a fistful of his curls in each hand. “Maybe the next time Sensei takes us out I’ll just swipe your dango so you don’t get any!”

“Yeah? Really?” Takasugi scoffs, “In front of Sensei?”

Gintoki shifts away from Katsura to sit up and glare at Takasugi, “Of course not in front of Sensei! How dumb do you think I am?!”

“Do you really want an answer to that?”

Katsura resumes the story before Gintoki can use the fist that he’s balling up. “The monkey accepted the dango with a smile, and immediately started eating them from the bag.”

“You’re just being cruel now.”

“‘You know,’ Sakamoto laughed through his mouthful of dango, ‘This is really a waste for you guys! No one’s been able to find the oni’s island for as long as I’ve been alive!’

“‘I found the oni!’ Yelled the dog as he ran back into the clearing.

“‘Ahaha, what?’

“‘What do you mean, you found the oni?’ Gintaro asked, pointing his sword at Katsura, ‘You were supposed to be looking for this idiot!’ He jabbed the tip of his blade towards Sakamoto. ‘Where did you even go?!’”

“I kind of forgot you were in the story, honestly,” Takasugi mutters.

“The pheasant flew into a tree, for some reason.”

“Hey!” Takasugi protests.

Katsura continues. “The dog looked to Gintaro. ‘I was looking, but I caught the oni’s scent around a destroyed village. I followed it as far as I could- but it ended at a deserted beach. There was a small island in the distance, but I don’t know how we’ll be able to reach it.’

“Gintaro and Takasugi smirked at the monkey, who suddenly looked very nervous. Katsura wondered what he missed. ‘Who even is that? What’s going on?’

“‘Don’t worry about it,’ Gintaro said, ‘Just take us to the beach.’

“The four of them trekked single file through the woods as Katsura led them to the cove. They stopped at a small beach, bordered by cliffs, that looked out towards an ominous, craggy island.”

“That’s cliche as hell,” Takasugi says.

“Shut up.” Katsura continues, “Sakamoto grit his teeth hopefully as the four of them surveyed the beach and the distant island. ‘Well, sorry fellas! I know we made a deal and all, but I can’t get you over if we don’t have a boat!’

“Katsura frowned thoughtfully. ‘The village that we passed was close to the ocean. One of the houses should have a boat that we can use.’

“Katsura, Takasugi, and Gintaro nodded to each other, and Sakamoto seemed resigned. They trekked back to the village, and began to pick their way through the rubble.

“Although most of the structures in the village had been smashed to kindling, it didn’t take them long to find a boat that was in relatively good shape. It was just a tiny sailboat, but given that there was only one human among them, and the rest of the company was small, it would fit them just fine.

“Gintaro hefted the boat over his head, Katsura retrieved one oar from the wreckage, and Sakamoto found another, and the four of them went down to the beach together.

“Gintaro set the boat down on the ground. Sakamoto reluctantly stepped up and onto the sailboat, hooking up the ropes, swinging around the rigging like-”

Katsura stops, bringing his hand to his chin.

“Like what? Why’d you stop?” Gintoki asks impatiently.

“Like…” Katsura trails off, looking up at the ceiling. “Hm… like..?”

“You were going to say ‘like a monkey,’ weren’t you?” Takasugi mumbles against his back.

Katsura stays silent.

“Did you forget he was a-”

“-Swinging around the rigging like a born sailor.” Katsura cuts Takasugi off. “It was a dramatic pause.”

“A dramatic pause,” Takasugi says, flatly. Gintoki turns his head so that Katsura can see his raised eyebrows. Katsura closes his eyes and steadfastly ignores them.

“In record time, Sakamoto had fixed all the ropes in place, and they were ready to move. The four of them shoved off the beach, making their way to the oni’s island, and- hopefully- sensei.”

“When are they going to fight something?” Takasugi asks.

“However, a problem presented itself as they began to sail.”

“Don’t ignore me, bastard.”

“It’s not bastard, it’s Katsura. As the waves began to rock the boat, Sakamoto doubled over. He began to convulse with the heaving of the sailboat. ‘Oi-’ Gintaro demanded, ‘What the hell is he doing?’

“‘Is he dying?’ Takasugi asks, looking down from his perch on the mast. ‘What the hell?’

“Sakamoto dragged himself to the edge of the ship and began heaving over the side. ‘Guys, I think he’s… motion-sick.’ Katsura said, looking at the hurling monkey.”

“What the fuck.”

“-said Gintaro, staring at Sakamoto.”

“Said Gintoki! Why the hell does their guide monkey get seasick?!”

“I didn’t think he was well rounded enough as a character, so I gave him a flaw.” Katsura says.

“What kind of flaw is that?! That’s just gross!” Gintoki exclaims.

“No, it raises the stakes, because now he’ll be a distracted captain,” Katsura protests.

“It makes him a pointless character.” Takasugi says disparagingly. “Isn’t he literally just there to be a guide?”

“I said that he’d be distracted, not useless.” Katsura protests.

“How is he going to captain the boat if he’s throwing up over the side of it?”

“He’ll be fine in a minute! Which you’d see, if you’d just stop interrupting me.” Katsura frowns. “You know- if you have so many problems with my story, then why don’t you tell it?”

“Fine, I will.” Takasugi snaps. “The monkey straightens up-”

“What?! No! This is my story! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“You literally JUST told me to tell it!” Takasugi sits up, glaring at Katsura.

Katsura sits up and crosses his arms in irritation. “Because I wanted you to be quiet and stop interrupting me!”

“Hey, why don’t you be quiet and let him tell the story, dammit?” Gintoki’s hand clamps over Katsura’s mouth. “This- What the hell! Did you just lick me?!”

Gintoki rips his hand away from Katsura’s face.

“I don’t appreciate you covering my mouth like that.” Katsura crinkles his nose and makes a face. “Disgusting- when was the last time you washed your hands?”

“What kind of moron licks someone and complains about how bad they taste?!” Gintoki demands, roughly wiping his palm on Katsura’s yukata.

“Why does your hand taste like you haven’t washed it in three months?” Katsura says, his voice rife with disgust. “That’s abhorrent. I have no idea what I could have just contracted.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m diseased!”

Takasugi lays back down, folding his hands over his stomach. “The monkey straightened up. ‘Sorry about that,’ He said, and scratched the back of his head, laughing. ‘It looks like the dango didn’t quite agree with me.’”

“Oi! You’re still doing that?!” Gintoki points at Takasugi, “You really wanted to tell this story! You wanted to take it over from the beginning, didn’t you?!”

Takasugi ignores him. “He’s still vaguely green, but he manages to make his way to the front of the boat.”

“It’s called the bow.” Katsura sniffs.

“Shut up, Zura,” Takasugi says.

“Katsura.”

“‘We’re gonna be getting into rough waters soon,’ Sakamoto tells the rest of them. What he didn’t know was how rough the waters were going to get.”

Katsura sniffs, crossing his arms and sitting up straighter. “If you need to say things like that, it means you’re not doing a good enough job of building tension into the narrative structure.”

Gintoki snorts, “No, it means he’s being a drama queen like always.”

Takasugi glares at them both. “Before any of them could process it, the water in front of them exploded, a huge torso rising from the ocean. It backhanded the boat, sending the crew flying. The pheasant escaped, but Gintaro and the dog were killed on impact.”

“HEY!” Gintoki yells.

“This is why I should be telling the story!” Katsura jabs an accusing finger at Takasugi. “You just killed half the characters. You killed the protagonist!”

“I think the story will be better off without him.” Takasugi says.

“Like hell it will!” Gintoki protests. “Who’s going to be the protagonist now?! A stupid bird?!”

“Maybe it will.” Takasugi crosses his arms.

“So you were trying to take over the story to kill me off, bastard!” Gintoki accuses. “Well fuck you! The stupid monster recovered fast, batting Takasugi out of the air. Splat! Now he’s dead too!”

“Stop it!” Katsura protests, “You’re killing the whole cast!”

“Actually, the pheasant wasn’t dead- that was just the sound he made when he hit the water.” Takasugi says, glaring at Gintoki. “The pheasant shook himself off and flew up again, diving at the monster.”

“Then Gintaro wasn’t dead, either, dammit! He just fell in the water, and he pulled himself up-”

“You can’t swim, dumbass!”

“The dog pulled him up!”

“And while the two of them were floundering in the water like idiots, the pheasant kept attacking the oni. He dived, taking out the monster’s eye-”

“And got hit again, splat, right back to the water. Zura, meanwhile, paddled Gintaro towards the monster. Gintaro got his sword out of its sheath-”

“It’s Katsura!”

“Only to be hit by a tidal wave when the monster moved! He went back under-”

“Then him and the dog were pulled up by the monkey, who had managed to get the boat back upright while they weren’t looking. ‘Hold on-’”

“He said, right before leaving the bow and throwing up, leaving the boat captainless.”

“So now you’re alright with the monkey having motion-sickness?” Katsura snaps.

“Shut up, Zura. Takasugi pulled himself out of the water-”

“And the monkey got off the railing and back to the helm of the boat, steering right towards the monster’s torso. Gintaro got out his sword and ran to the front of the ship-”

“And slipped and impaled himself.”

“NO! He stood at the bow while Sakamoto steered it closer and closer-”

“And Takasugi went back in for the attack. When the monster went to slap him away, his hand slammed down on the boat, cracking the bo-”

“THE MAST in half! While Takasugi distracted the oni, Gintaro jumped, stabbing the monster in the throat with his sword. The monster died-”

“And fell back into the waves,” Katsura picks up. “Takasugi landed on the railing of the ship, battered but still alive. Sakamoto directed Katsura on how to steer the ship- his arm had been struck with a stray piece of the cracked mast, and he was sitting aside, spent. Katsura pulled the boat over to Gintoki, who was struggling to stay afloat, waving his sword over his head.

“They pulled him back onto the boat. He leaned over the side, spitting out saltwater tinged with the oni’s blood.”

“That’s gross, dammit- if this is about licking my hand, that’s on you, bastard.”

“The four of them rested for a moment, catching their breath after fighting for their lives. After a minute, Sakamoto broke the silence.

“‘Well?’ Sakamoto chuckled weakly, ‘Still want to go to the oni’s island?’

“‘We’re almost there,’ Katsura noted gravely, looking to the shoreline barely half a mile away.

“‘We couldn’t turn back anyway.’ Takasugi said.

“They stared at the shoreline as it approached, growing in their vision like the dread it commanded. They made their way slowly- Gintaro was forced to row at one point, without the mast to propel them along. Every so often, Takasugi flew up to scout the surrounding water, checking for any more unpleasant surprises.

“They beached without any more encounters, and climbed out of the boat. Gintaro started to head up, towards the mountain that crept over the treeline. Katsura stopped him.

“‘Wait a minute.’ He said. ‘We can’t just charge in there.’”

Takasugi snorts. “So they’re strategizing now?”

“‘We have no idea what’s up there,’ Katsura said, ‘Since Takasugi and I are the smallest and most unobtrusive, we should scout the mountainside to see what we can find.’

Gintoki’s eyes slide over to Takasugi.

“Don’t. Say. Anything.” Takasugi snaps at him.

“I was just gonna say that splitting up is a stupid idea.” Gintoki says. His face twists in mock confusion, leaning over Katsura to get into Takasugi’s face. “Why? Did you think I was going to say something about you being small, Takasugi-kun? Were you thinking about how-”

“‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ Gintaro asked,” Katsura continues, shoving Gintoki off of him before Takasugi uses the fist that he’s been pulling back. “Takasugi and Katsura looked at each other and nodded. ‘Yes.’

“The two of them headed up the mountain, sticking close to the undergrowth and the cover that the tree canopies provided. Gintaro stayed on the beach with Sakamoto, helping him to bandage his arm, waiting for Takasugi to give a signal.

“‘Nasty cut.’ Gintaro noted.

“‘Ahaha, yeah.’ Sakamoto scratched the back of his head with his undamaged hand. ‘Looks like I won’t be much use from here on out, sorry!’

“Gintaro sighed. ‘What the hell are you saying? You didn’t even want to come here at all.’

“Sakamoto laughed again. ‘You got me there! But you know- you guys are alright! I didn’t expect you to last five seconds against the oni- much less actually beat one!’

“Gintaro pulled the makeshift bandage particularly tight.

“‘Ahaha- ow! I get it, bastard!’ Sakamoto said.

“‘Sure you-’ Gintaro froze, the same instinct that had informed him of Yoshida Shoin’s capture taking over. He turned to Sakamoto, tying off his bandage quickly. ‘I have to go, now. Don’t wait for us.’

“‘What about the signal-’ Sakamoto tried to protest, but Gintaro was already tearing up the beach, towards the forest with his sword clutched in a white knuckled grip.

“Gintaro tore through the branches, guided only by the pit growing in his stomach. He burst into a clearing, his feelings of dread mounting as he followed the direction his instincts pulled him.”

A classic plot twist, Katsura thought. He abruptly remembers the last drama that Shoyou-sensei had taped, about a noble-born girl who went to save her father from a gang of bandits after he was kidnapped for ransom.

“Gintaro’s stomach dropped as he took in the scene.

“Katsura and Takasugi battled a monster as large as the one they had found in the ocean. It swung its fist down on Takasugi and missed him by inches. The monster’s long, pale hair swayed from the impact with the ground.”

“Long, pale- why are you talking about his hair?” Gintoki demands, apparently feeling like it had been too long since he griped about something. “This is a fight scene, not a Loreal commercial.”

Katsura continues the story. “Katsura dodged the monster’s next blow, throwing himself out of the way desperately. Both the dog and the pheasant had barely restrained horror on their faces as they looked at the oni. They didn’t attack, only stumbled away from the monster’s heavy fists.”

“What the hell are they doing?” Takasugi demands.

“Zura, what’s going on? What are you doing?” Gintoki presses.

“Gintaro ignored the pit in his stomach, drawing his sword and stepping forward just as the monster dropped its hands, grabbing Takasugi and Katsura- one in either fist.

“With a battle cry, Gintaro charged- and the monster turned around.

“Gintaro’s feet slowed, his heart hammered in his chest- he nearly dropped his sword as the oni’s face came into view. Staring back at him, with horns standing on top of his head, and long tusks poking from his lower lip, was the gently smiling face of Yoshida Shoin.”

There.

The father of the girl in the drama had secretly been the leader of the bandits all along, and had faked his kidnapping to go spend his stolen fortune.

“What?! What the hell, Zura?!” Takasugi and Gintoki demand together, rocketting to sitting positions. The scraping of the branches against the roof is forgotten as they both stare at him, disbelief written all over their faces.

“What?” Katsura snaps. “This is the climax of the story! I’m trying to finish-”

“Why is Shoyou-sensei an oni?! Was he an oni the whole damn time?! Was he fifty feet tall at the start of the story and you just didn’t mention it?!” Gintoki grabs the front of his collar and shakes him.

Katsura slaps his hands away. “No- and it’s Shoin! Not Shoyou- let go of me!”

“What the hell Zura?” Takasugi demands.

Katsura puts both hands on Gintoki’s chest and shoves him away, pushing him to the edge of the futon. He pulls his collar back into place and glares at Gintoki. “I would explain it, if you would just let me tell the story!”

“Yeah- but now the story makes no sense!” Gintoki sits up again, waving his hands. “Why is Shoyou-sensei suddenly a monster? Why the hell was he taken by oni if he was one? Why was he hanging out with a bird, a mutt, and a brat in the woods?”

Katsura sniffed and crossed his arms, trying to buy the time he needed to think of the answers to any of those questions. “His backstory was never established, so I can make it whatever I want. And I never said that he was suddenly an oni- I just implied that Gintaro, Katsura, and Takasugi didn’t know before.”

They’d never explained her father’s motivation or backstory in the drama. She was kidnapped by the bandits at the end, and lashed out in the darkness and accidentally killed one while she escaped. When she came back with the authorities later, they found the body of her father.

“Yeah- so he’s suddenly a monster.” Takasugi snaps.

“No,” Katsura sits up and crosses his arms. “They just didn’t know before.”

“How didn’t they know before! He’s fifty feet tall!” Takasugi fires back.

“He wasn’t fifty feet tall at the start of the story.” Katsura sniffs.

Takasugi’s face twists into a scowl. He demands, “Then how is he not suddenly an oni?!”

“Oni are shapeshifters.” Katsura makes up on the spot. “You’d know that if you read more.”

Takasugi makes a loud noise of irritation.

“That doesn’t answer the question of why the hell he was just hanging out in the woods with a brat and two wild animals!” Gintoki says.

“Yes it does!” Katsura struggles to think of any possible reason for him to do that. “He obviously has some kind of tragic backstory! People with tragic backstories live in the middle of the woods, or on the road, or something like that. Normal people live in villages. It’s a basic trope!”

“Shoyou-sensei lives on the road and he’s not a goddamn oni,” Gintoki snaps.

“Shoyou-sensei is a real person!” Katsura turns to glare at Gintoki. “Why don’t you learn the difference between fantasy and reality?”

“That still doesn’t explain why he picked up a bird, a dog, and a weird peach kid,” Takasugi points out, still glaring at Katsura. “Why would he do that? If he’s a monster, and now he’s trying to kill them, it doesn’t make sense.”

“You haven’t even heard the whole story yet!” Katsura cries. “You need to wait until you hear the whole explanation before you say it doesn’t make sense!”

“Fine then! Whatever! Just get on with it!” Gintoki flops down, pulling at his hair in frustration.

Katsura lays back down and clears his throat. “Yoshida Shoin looked to Gintaro, Takasugi held in one giant hand, Katsura gripped in the other. ‘Gintaro. I’ve been expecting you.’”  
“Lame,” Gintoki mutters half-heartedly.

Katsura kicks him in the shin.

“‘Shoin-sensei…?’ Gintaro’s voice was barely able to leave his throat. He adjusted his grip on his sword, trying to keep the grip from slipping out of his trembling hands. ‘What are you… What are you doing here?! Why are you like this?!’

“Yoshida Shoin considered the question. His face, his mannerisms were as they’d always been in their house in the woods. Gintaro struggled to wrap his head around it, the man he had known and the monster in front of him.

“‘Didn’t you ever wonder, Gintaro,’ Yoshida Shoin said, tone too light, too conversational. Gintaro felt like the earth under his feet was disappearing, ‘Who I was? Where I came from? Why I never left the woods?’

“No, was the honest answer. Gintaro had never considered the origins of the kind man who had fished him out of the river. Gintaro grit his teeth, tightening his hands around the hilt of his sword.  
“‘I used to be the king of the oni.’ Shoin said. His grip on Takasugi and Katsura is so tight that they could only make wheezing, breathless noises. ‘I was the strongest and fiercest among them, unparalleled. Villages, warriors, the other oni, they all fell before me. It grew… tiresome. I withdrew to the forest.’

“‘Why didn’t you kill us, then?’ Gintaro demanded. His hands were sweating and his grip faltering while he tried to reconcile the demon in front of him with his- their, Katsura and Takasugi made strangled noises in the monster’s grasp- patient teacher.

“‘What would be the purpose? But now…’ The oni smiled- Shoin smiled- his face just as it was when he was waiting for them to puzzle out a particularly challenging question. ‘This piques my interest. What will you do now? You came to fight the oni, didn’t you? There’s one right here- and these two don’t seem as though they’ll be breathing much longer.’ Shoin looked Gintaro in the eyes. ‘Will you attack me- will you kill me- or will you let me crush these two to pulp in my fists?’”

Takasugi- the real Takasugi- makes a strangled noise low in his throat. Gintoki is dead silent. Katsura closes his eyes and continues.

“‘Stop-’ Gintaro forced out. His voice was quiet, gravelly. Yoshida Shoin’s fists constricted, calmly. ‘Stop it- Shoin-sensei!’

“‘Well, Gintaro?’ His fists closed, tighter and tighter. Takasugi’s mouth opened, no oxygen left to so much as groan. Katsura’s head slumped. Gintaro’s sword shook in his grip. His feet shifted wider into an attacking stance. He raised his blade in front of him, just as Shoin had taught.”

“Zura-,” Gintoki’s voice comes out in a low whisper.

“He took his first, shaky step forward, breaking into a run, a leap- he sprung forward, his legs carrying him higher than ever before. Shoin made no move to block, dodge, counter.”

“Zura-” Gintoki’s voice is louder, more insistent. Takasugi’s hand curls into Katsura’s sleeve. He shuts his eyes tighter. “Wait- Zura.”

“The journey was painfully long- painfully short. Gintaro’s blade-” Katsura swallowed. “...Gintoki turned his blade, and swung it, and with one strike, it was over.”

Takasugi’s grip on Katsura’s sleeve tightens. Gintoki is silent.

Katsura opens his eyes in the heavy silence. No protests, no interruptions. He swallows again.

“Gintaro fell with the body, and the head, of their teacher, the impact like distant thunder. Gintaro could barely feel it. Could barely feel anything. He stumbled forward, away from the body, silent.

“The three of them, Gintaro, Katsura, Takasugi, couldn’t look at each other. Katsura and Takasugi lay on the ground, wheezing through their wrung-out lungs. Gintaro stood between the neck and the head of their mentor, his head bowed, the tip of his sword to the ground. Why had they come? Why- for this?”

Gintoki and Takasugi make strangled noises. Katsura thinks he should have killed more of the cast, if it got them to be quiet like this. But- it had been annoying. He’d watched all those tapes, hiding while Shoyou-sensei supervised Takasugi or Gintoki while they served their punishment for whatever they’d gotten into, waiting and waiting for Hanabi to finally reunite with her father. He clears his throat.

“So loud is the rushing in his head, he can’t hear the noise from the body of the oni behind him. While he faces away, a man, a normal sized man, crawls from the neck of the oni.”

“What the hell?” Takasugi mutters.

“Gross, Zura.” Gintoki says softly.

“‘Gintaro,’ calls the quiet voice of Yoshida-shoin.”

Sounds of confusion and nascent outrage sound from either side of Zura. He claps his hands over both of their mouths. No interruptions, not now, not when the backstory he’d been desperately trying to make up was just coming to him now.

“Gintaro, Takasugi and Katsura freeze. In unison, their heads swivel to look at the face of their mentor, pristine despite crawling out of the corpse of the oni.”

“Did it eat him?” Gintoki demands, wrestling Katsura’s hand off of his face.

“Oh, so it ate him and took his face,” Takasugi muses, sounding smug, like he has it all figured out. “Since they’re shapeshifters.”

Katsura searches for a new explanation.

“‘Shoin-sensei?’ Gintaro speaks. ‘Are you-’

“‘I was once the king of the oni,’ Shoin repeats the words he spoke as a fifty foot monster. ‘Villages, warriors, the other oni, they all fell before me. I grew tired… of the bloodshed.

“‘I withdrew to the woods, and decided to live a peaceful life,’ He explained, ‘And that’s where I found you. But the other oni weren’t content to let me go, and when they came for me, it reawakened my monstrous side. I needed you to cut me down, so that I could finally be free.’ As he spoke, the body of the oni behind him crumbled to dust, blowing away on the wind. With the weight of the past cut from him, he was finally free to live as he pleased, and the four of them returned to their house in the woods to live out the rest of their lives in peace. The end.”

Katsura took a deep breath, satisfied. He turned towards Takasugi and Gintoki in turn. They stared at him with dumbstruck faces.

“That-” Takasugi started.

“That was the stupidest story I’ve ever heard!” Gintoki snaps.

Katsura stares at him, affronted.

“Live out the rest of their lives in peace? What the hell? After all that?” Gintoki rants. “What did Gintaro think about all that, huh?”

“And where were all the other oni that Shoin was supposedly king of?” Takasugi asked.

“He killed them,” Katsura frowned. He shouldn’t have expected them to recognize a masterpiece when they heard one.

“You’re not answering my question, bastard. You can’t just kill someone and then yank them back from the dead like that!” Gintoki snaps.

“And what about Takasugi and Katsura?” Takasugi presses. “Why don’t they get to say anything at the end?”

“They left Sakamoto on the beach!” Gintoki yells.

“He’s a minor character!” Katsura snaps back. “And I didn’t say anything about how they reacted so that the reader could interpret it for themselves.”

He couldn’t think of anything. His vision of Hanabi meeting her father again after everything faded the more he tried to imagine it.

“There are no readers! It’s just us!” Gintoki slaps his hand on the ground. “You’re delusional!”

“You didn’t say anything about how they reacted because you couldn’t think of anything,” Takasugi accuses.

“It’s late and I’m tired!” Katsura shouts back. “Maybe I would have had more time to think about it if you guys hadn’t kept interrupting me.”

“Well, it is quite late,” Came a cheerful voice from the doorway.

Yoshida Shoyou stepped into the room. Their own teacher, monstrous in his own unique way. Katsura, Gintoki and Takasugi all looked separate directions, sheepish.

Shoyou’s voice is calm and light. He walks closer to them, kneeling by their shared futon. “I see you weren’t happy with how my drama ended, Kotaro.”

“His drama?” Gintoki repeats. “And you were telling us off for breaking into his video collection?!”

Takasugi reaches over Katsura to pinch him, hard. “Shut up!”

“It ruined the story. Everything was building up to her confronting her father and then they just killed him at the end.” Katsura crossed his arms. Voicing his displeasure with the plot won over trying to conceal his wrongdoing. “It ruined the tension and left the viewer feeling like they had watched the whole show for nothing.”

“Ah, but bringing characters back from the dead ruins the narrative tension as well.” Shoyou-sensei’s hands rest lightly on his knees. “By having dead characters stay dead, the author establishes that actions have consequences. Consequences like this.”

A fist knocks into the head of each of them in turn.

“You three are a hundred years too early to be breaking into my video collection.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely the longest, and debatably the most pointless, thing I've ever written. But its okay. Because I had fun <3


End file.
